When the Past Comes Back
by blackbelt96
Summary: Wilson has been working at a cancer reserch center in CA for seven years. Its been that long since he has heard of or seen anyone from his past. And suddenly they're all back. Mostly about Wilson and House. No slash. Warning:Some substance abuse later
1. Blast From The Past

A/N I know this is a bit out of character, but it won't be for long. And this is going off of that Wilson has been gone for about seven years. House has changed a little, but other than that no really big character personality changes.

And finally i do not own House.

I knew things would change eventually. I knew that one day House would stop showing up at my door step, still begging for my help on cases he was perfectly capable of handling. I knew that not long after that House would stop calling me, to ask me what ever ridiculous question he had in mind. And I knew that when I did move away, across the country, House would have moved on, so he wouldn't see me off.

Still when the day came, and my things were all packed up in boxes, being hauled into a truck for their cross-country trip and everyone but House showed up…I was crushed.

Now ten years later I sit in my huge office, blinds drawn, door locked, and only twelve words reverberating in my head "_House we're not friends anymore, I'm not sure we ever really were." _It was exactly this day ten years ago that I left and it has been exactly ten years since I had seen or heard from Gregory House.

Cuddy called frequently after I left, we would talk small talk; how my new hospital was, if I had made any new friends. But then one day something changed. I got a phone call from Cuddy and as soon as I answered and heard her voice I knew something was different, something was wrong.

"_James…I don't know how to say this."_

"_Say what?" _

"_House is…he's sick."_

It was the last time I ever talked to her, she blamed me…I knew it. If I hadn't left, House would still be well. I never knew what happened to him…I was always tempted to look it up, but I always stopped myself, never willing to revisit my past.

There was a resonating knock on my office door and I moaned silently to myself.

"What?" I barked.

"The conference is starting…I was told to let you know." A small and timid voice came from the other side.

"I'll be there in a minute." I almost yelled.

I heard hurried footsteps walk away from my door and I got up from my chair.

On my way out I grabbed my white lab coat and walked out of my office. The halls were mostly deserted. Only nurses still flitted in and out of patients rooms…making sure no one died while all the doctors were at this conference.

One nurse caught my eye as I walked down the hall; she smiled at me and nodded her head in a silent greeting. I attempted to smile back, but whether it came out as a smile or a grimace I will never know.

I finally arrived at the conference center and could hear the low hum of hundreds of voices talking. I paused before I walked into the crowed room, taking a moment to compose myself.

Once I felt ready enough to walk in and socialize with a bunch of overpaid asses who thought they were God himself, I opened the door and made my entrance.

I took in my general surroundings quickly. The sight was nothing new, men and women dressed nicely, wearing white lab coats, embroidered over the left breast pocket was their name and the name of the hospital they worked at.

It didn't take long for someone to find me, in fact I was surprised at how quickly someone had been able to spot me and then make their way over to me.

I quickly had my hand being shock by a woman I soon later found out was name Dr. Elle Jackson. She basically forcefully sat me down in a chair and began to chat my ear off, apparently determined to talk to me until I had gone deaf.

I smiled and nodded when I was supposed to and listened more intently when there was a question asked. But otherwise I tuned the woman out, not interested in what she or any of the other people there had to say, because what they had to say and what they had to ask were pretty much all the same thing with little variation.

Another doctor, a man came up to me about fifteen minutes after the mind numbing conversation with the woman doctor had started. I knew the man vaguely; we had met before at other conventions and had talked briefly at those conventions.

Then man, Dr. Jacob Hansin, was a man I could tolerate. He shared many of the same opinions and views as I did, and he didn't ask me stupid questions just so he could talk to me.

"Excuse me miss, I would like to talk to Dr. Wilson if you don't mind." Jacob cut in rather loudly.

The woman stopped mid-sentence and blushed, looking a little put off. "No of course not." She said getting up from her seat. "Thank you for talking with me Dr. Wilson." I nodded at her before she walked off somewhere.

Jacob took the recently vacated seat next to me and smiled tightly at me.

"Thanks." I said dully.

"No problem, I know how adoring fans can get." Jacob cracked a joke.

I laughed wryly and said "Yeah…so how have you been?"

"Good, the wife is good, we just sent my daughter off to med-school…I'm proud about that. And you?"

"Fine." I answered shortly.

"Always the same James." Jacob shook his head slightly.

"Yeah well what can you do?" I asked without emotion.

"Treat you like the son of a bitch that you are?" Jacob smiled again.

This time I offered up a real smile and said "There you go."

We were interrupted in our almost ritualistic convention banter by a nervous, sweaty intern speaking loudly into the podium microphone. "Will you please all take your seats, the conference will be starting now."

"Well, I do believe that's our cue. Until next time." Jacob stood up.

I followed and said "Until next time."

I shook Jacob's hand and then we parted ways, each of us heading to our respective seats.

I sat down next to my chief of medicine who grunted and said "You showed up."

"It was required wasn't it?"

He nodded and then turned away from me, and to the doctor who sat never to him.

I looked around at all the people from different hospitals, not really taking in their faces until…

I did a double take over the faces of the people who sat two rows over and a few seats up. Suddenly my mind reeled, my heart dropped, and I could feel my blood run cold.

They couldn't be here…they were never here. It couldn't be them!

But sure enough, plain and true as day, there sat none other than Lisa Cuddy, with even more shockingly Cameron, Chase and Foreman. I whipped my eyes. I couldn't believe it. But the hits just kept on coming. Next to Cuddy, on her left sat House. He was staring at the ceiling, popping a handful of white pills in his mouth when Cuddy leaned over the empty seat next to her and told him something.

He laughed lightly as leaned over to the person, a man I had never met before, but who wore the hospital lab coat and assumedly repeated what had just been told to him. The man chuckled loudly and said something back to House who in return nodded.

Just when I thought the surprises would stop, a woman, a young woman sat next to House, also wearing the hospital lab coat. She smiled at House and patted his good knee and whispered something to him that made House smile ever so lightly.

I turned away unable to watch anymore, for I was afraid the shock would stop my heart.

"Are you alright Wilson?" My chief asked, not really concernedly.

"Just peachy sir." I answered tightly.

"Alright everyone, we're ready to begin…" A very important man stood at the podium.

I stopped listening after the first few words, my mind in only one place, but a milling different places at the same time.

I dared a glace back at my old team, mostly back at House who was looking at the man at the podium. My heart raced and dropped at the same time, I looked away again, thinking my heart would surely stop.

"_Oh God_." I thought "_This_ _has to be a bad alcohol induced dream_." But when I slammed my eyes shut and pinched myself and then opened my eyes to find all of them still there I could think only one thing and that was…_"Damn it! I'm so screwed." _

_2_nd A/N I hope you guys liked it. And for any of you who are reading my other story, i have not abandoned it, i promise!


	2. Unanswered Questions

The conference dragged on for what seemed like ten hours even though the first part was only maybe one and a half. The prolonged time could have been caused by the fact that I was paying attention to the man in a monkey suit at the podium, but was always looking to where my old co-workers sat.

My thought drifted from place to place, always thinking about what I had left behind and how much things must have changed. The only think I could find comfort in was the fact that House was still popping pills like they were candies.

I thought constantly of the changes that must have set in these people while I was here in California trying forget. Was House still an arrogant jackass, was Cuddy still enabling House to be and arrogant jackass. Was Cameron still crushing on House and did Chase still pretend like he wasn't afraid of House?

And who were these new people that seemed to be so close to these people that had once been my friends? Had one of them been brought in to replace me? Was one of them House's new best friend? Had House replaced me with ease or difficulty, or had even replaced me at all. Was he still pining or had he forgotten quickly like I longed to?

And the one thing that was first and foremost at the front of my mind was, was House still sick? What had he come down with, Cuddy never told me. How had he gotten what he had? Had it been a strenuous illness? Had it almost killed him? Who had gathered around him? How was he treated? Was he still in fact sick as a horse or had he gotten better and was now recovering, or was he long past recovering?

I hardly even noticed with the man at the podium called for a break.

"Now's your chance to escape James." My chief said jokingly to me.

I smiled slightly and said "Yeah, I suppose it is, I'll be back in half an hour, that's when this thing starts again right?"

My chief nodded and I took my leave, debating all the way to the door whether or not to confront my old friends or just leave as quickly as I could.

I ended taking the second option I gave myself, hoping that it wasn't a mistake. I knew that during this week long conference I would eventually have to talk to them, make small talk, or be brutally attacked by them, one of the two. But whichever one it ended up being, I would prolong it for as long as possible and even when I was confronted with the situation, I would still try to hold it off for as long as possible.

I walked quickly down the deserted hallways and quickly found the sanctuary of my office. I stepped inside the dimly light confines quickly and shut the door hurriedly behind me, locking it before I would allow myself to breathe.

Once I had had a chance to let my heart rate settle I sighed in discontentment, this was not good, whatever was going to happen, I could tell it would not be good.

I walked around my cluttered desk and took a seat in my comfy, well used seat. I leaned back trying to relax and place my feet up onto of my desk. I rubbed my eyes tiredly, suddenly spent and tried to think of something other than House.

I actually managed to think about the San Francisco Giants and how I was somewhat disappointed in their performance so far in the year when there was knock on my door.

My thought were disturbed and the peaceful hum of baseball thoughts in my brain came to an abrupt halt as I groaned at the interruption.

"Go away!" I shouted.

"Dr. Wilson I was told to tell you that you have fifteen minutes." A small voice on the other side said.

"Fine." I said before I heard the hurried footsteps walk away from my office.

God I had screwed up. Now House was back on my mind and I was unhappy again.

There was another knock at my door and I thought it was the intern from hell returning so I yelled "I thought I told you to go away!"

"Now Wilson, I hope that's not how you talk to your staff." I heard a familiar voice on the other side say almost laughingly.

I sprang up from my desk and asked "Who's there?"

"Why Jimmy, wouldn't you recognize my voice?" The voice on the other end teased.

I walked quickly to the door, unlocked it, and retched it open. There before me stood a most beautiful Cameron.

"Hello Dr. Wilson, I thought it was you I had seen a couple hours ago." Cameron said politely smiling, showing off her perfect white teeth.

"Why…why are you here?" I stuttered through my words.

"Do I need an excuse to come visit an old co-worker, especially after ten years of not seeing or hearing from said ex-co-worker?" Cameron asked, straining her next to get a glimpse of the office space that lay behind me.

"I suppose not" I said still standing in the doorway, not letting Cameron through. My mind spun suddenly. I guess I got the answer to one of my questions, Cameron had most definitely changed, not in looks, but her personality was more…confident and maybe even a little boarder line flirtatious.

"May I come in?" She asked expectantly, waiting for me to nod my head, say yes, and step aside.

It took me a moment to make up my mind, but what was I supposed to say 'no'? "Yes…I suppose…come in/" I said stepping aside to let the blonde in.

She walked in confidently, but slowly taking in the space around her. Whether she approved of what she saw, I don't know, she became suddenly hard to read.

She spun around quickly to face me, with an almost blank face and asked almost temptingly "So Jimmy…how have you been?

By the way she said my name and the way she was suddenly looking at me I could tell I had suddenly landed myself if a steaming pile of shit.

_Damn it!_

A/N okay i know...way out of character for Cameron, but ten years has pased, but i promise theres still some old cameron in there. Thanks for the reveiws!


	3. Wishing For the Past

Saved by the phone…it might just have been the only time I was ever grateful to have a boss who was always on top of my ass.

Cameron seemed angry as I knew she would when I told her my boss needed my back at the conference now.

She smirked, maybe a little bitter about the fact that she didn't get to chew me out and said "Still an ass kisser."

I took my leave quickly, never so grateful to be told to leave me office, my sanctuary.

When I arrived, my boss sat sitting in the same chair I had left him…looking as if he had never gotten up.

"James," He said almost in a surprised tone "That was fast."

"You called me sir?" I asked choosing to ignore the previous comment.

"Ahh, yes…yes I did." He paused briefly and looked around him, as if looking for someone to come and bombarded him with unpleasant things.

"Sir is there something wrong?" I asked getting impatient; the feeling of gratitude short lived.

"No James," he said back to his old self. "There's a doctor I would like you to talk to you."

He motioned behind me and I turned to see the male doctor from Princeton that I had never met before standing in front of me.

"Dr. Wilson…I've been waiting to meet you." The man said as he stuck out his hand.

I shook it with curiosity, why did this man want to meet me? I didn't even know who he was.

"Who are you?" I asked my voice bordering rude.

"Oh, yes…forgive me. I'm Dr. Johnson…Mike Johnson. I'm head of the oncology department at Princeton Plainsboro…I've heard a lot about you." He said smiling at me.

I hadn't even known the guy for more than three minutes, and already I didn't like him.

"Oh…you have?" I asked suddenly intrigued with what the man had to say.

"Yes…only good things…don't worry." The man said in a joking laugh.

I plastered my fake smile on my face and let out a fake chuckle.

"So how do you like it there?" I asked, I could feel the chief's eyes on me.

"I love it there. Great team of doctors…great friends." He said nodding.

Suddenly there was jealousy in the pit of my stomach, jealousy I couldn't control.

"So you know House?" I asked not able to help myself.

"Of course." The man said with a genuine smile.

"And how is he?" I asked my curiosity getting the better of me.

Dr. Johnson's smile faltered slightly, enough for me to catch it and see it clear as day. "He's fine." His answer was short, surface deep.

I nodded my head when there was a loud voice.

"If you will all take your seats please, the seminar is ready to start again."

I looked up to see the scared intern again.

"Well that's my queue to leave; it was nice meeting you Dr. Wilson." Dr. Johnson once again had his hand out in front of me.

I shook it once again and said "Like wise."

The man walked away and I took my seat next to the chief.

"Now see Wilson…it's not so hard to be nice to strangers."

I grunted in response and shifted in my seat.

I looked to where my old team sat, unable to not keep my eyes away.

Cameron was back, she was sitting next to Cuddy, mouth moving quickly as Cuddy listened intently. Chase and Forman talked quietly to each other on the other side of Cameron. And House, he was talking to the woman doctor I had never met, when Dr. Johnson took his seat next to the woman.

He said something excitedly to House and the woman. He talked animatedly with his hands, smiling widely.

House said something and the smile on Dr. Johnson's face wavered a little. A look of puzzlement overcame him and he turned to scan the conference room. His eyes landed on me, and soon his finger was following his eyes.

House's head turned slowly in my direction until his bright blue eyes came to rest on me. He didn't blink, he just stared. He didn't look shocked nor did he look ecstatic. His face was emotionless. He finally took his gaze off of me and turned it back to Dr. Johnson.

He said something seriously and Dr. Johnson nodded, sobered now.

House turned away from him and to Cuddy who was still listening to Cameron. He said something to her, with the look of having something that tasted bad in his mouth on his face.

Cuddy turned to House and nodded, saying something to him in return. House than leaned forward to look at Cameron intently, maybe a bit harshly.

I turned away from the scene, a feeling of dread settling suddenly into the pit of my stomach.

"Are you feeling alright today Wilson?" I heard the chief's voice next to me.

I nodded slowly and said "Yeah…I think."

"You think or you know?" Came the chief's stern voice.

"I'm alright sir…I feel fine. Thanks for asking."

I could see him nod out of my peripheral vision, seemingly satisfied with the answer I provided.

I settled into my seat, a strange feeling of numbness overcoming me. I could feel multiple sets of eyes on me; maybe my going numb was my body's way of defending itself from the cold and hard stares.

The lecturing doctor came to the podium and cleared his throat. The room became silent and focused the doctor on the stage.

I closed my eyes and wished for this life that I knew to go away. I wished that Amber had never died, that I had never left House, and that I had gone back home to see him when I got the news that he was sick. I wished that the eyes on my were not cold but forgiving, and that when they all eventually did approach me, that they would welcome me with open arms, instead of closed hearts and mean words.

I wished for the days when House and I would sit in bars and talk…talk like friends. When Cuddy looked at me with kind eyes and when Cameron, Chase and Foreman would come to me with House problems.

I wished for the past…a past with Cuddy, Foreman, Chase, Cameron…but mostly House…a past I longed for…a past that had escaped me too quickly.

A/N as i write this i have realized that Wilson has some serious House moments. and they will all meet soon, whether its all together or in little groups or what ever, it'll happen. Thaks for the reviews!


	4. A Visit to the Bitter

So I was bitter. So I finally understood why House was the way he was. Life hadn't been good to me the last couple years, and I finally understood what it felt like to feel the need to spread misery.

Maybe I was a hypocrite, maybe I wasn't justified in treating people the way I did, but I didn't care…I couldn't care.

I sat again in my dark office contemplating and remembering all the times I had told off House for being his self, all the times I wondered why it was so hard for him to be nice to people, and all the times I had merely shaken my head and looked the other way in disappointment.

I was numb on the inside; I couldn't muster emotion for anyone, but myself, maybe.

I leaned forward in my chair and put my elbows on my desk. I sighed…I didn't know what to do. The conference for that day had ended twenty minutes ago, I had made out of that place like a bat out of hell. I didn't want to wait around for House and Cuddy to find me. I had a whole week of this ahead of me yet, and I was dreading every one of those days that I had to see them.

I picked up a file that sat in front of me and opened it up. I started to go through charts that had been filled out for a patient with lung cancer. I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose, trying to rub away the beginnings of a terrible head ache.

I closed the file, unable to concentrate and leaned back into my chair once again. I propped my feet onto my desk and leaned my head back, closing my eyes.

I sighed, getting ready to nap when there was a knock at my door. This seemed to be happening more and more frequently lately…apparently I was becoming a very popular guy.

I dragged my feet off of my desk and sat up. "Come in." I called.

The door opened slowly. I watched tentatively, knowing in my gut that it would be one of my old co-workers on the other side.

I was right, the door swung open to reveal an almost nervous looking Lisa Cuddy standing in my doorway.

"Lisa." I said in surprise. I stood up and motioned her in.

Cuddy stepped in and stopped a couple feet from my desk. "Hello Wilson." She said in a monotone voice.

"How are you?" I asked, feeling suddenly like I was about to be chastised by my boss.

Cuddy looked up to meet my eyes and said "I'm fine…and yourself?"

Her eyes were just as green as ever, but there was something different. Time had shaped them so different emotion lay beneath the surface. Her face held lines that had not been there ten years ago. She still looked beautiful, but she was older, wiser, and maybe a little more worn down.

"I'm alright." I lied. I knew Cuddy would hold no sympathy for me, and if she did well then, that would surprise me on the utmost level. "Sit please." I motioned to an empty chair in front my desk for her to take.

She nodded and walked slowly towards the chair I had motioned to. She took it, tucking her skirt under her as she took her seat.

An uncomfortable silence fell over us as we took in each other's appearances and demeanors.

"So how has work been for you Wilson?" Cuddy asked looking to me, holding no emotion on her face.

I looked at her, were we really going to have this conversation? Had she come all this way just too small talk me?

"Fine, people with cancer come in…people without cancer go out…whether they're alive or…"

Cuddy put her hand up to stop me "I get it."

"So how are things back at Princeton?" I asked trying to return the small talk.

"Good, I could explain, but there's been so much change and it's different there now, I think I would lose you in it all…and plus you probably don't have the time." If that was Cuddy's attempt at a jab, I felt it…and it worked.

I nodded slowly, not walking to ask the question that was on the forefront of my mind. "How are Cameron, Chase and Foreman?" I asked trying to prolong the inevitable.

Cuddy looked at me, as if seeing right through me, and suddenly I felt more vulnerable than I cared to be.

"They're good. Cameron is the head of the ER now, I didn't think it would happen…after all she said it was just temporary…if you remember, but she took to it I guess. She's been the head for about a year and half now, I'm proud of her. Chase has done well too; he's working up the surgery food chain. He's made it quite high up there and he's made a name for himself, a good name. And Foreman…well he's still on House's team…he's not his lackey though…he's House's partner per se. Foreman is very good at what he does, I'm proud of him as well." And there it was…House's name was out in the open…laying on my desk like a gleaming present waiting to be opened by the one that dare touch it. Cuddy listed off the achievements of the people I had once known to follow in House's footsteps, daring only to break away from his sadistic charm just before I left. She watched my face closely for a reaction, and I have to admit, I would have been surprised if she hadn't found one.

My heart began to beat faster, and my palms began to sweat, becoming cold and clammy as I thought of asking about House.

"And ah…how is…ah House?" I asked barely getting the words out.

Cuddy was still, not quite meeting my eyes. "He's…good I guess…different, most defiantly different…again I would explain to you but I'm sure you don't have the desire nor the time." Cuddy was yet again taunting me, dangling information I wanted to know so badly just out of my reach…I would have to admit to my mistakes before she would even begin to think about divulging information about House to me.

I nodded unable to muster the courage to ask anything more. I was different too now…I was a coward…a jerk…a miserable lonely fool.

"Cuddy…Lisa…please I want to know…I really need to know."

Cuddy's eyes softened for a moment, but it happened so fast I could have imagined it. She nodded and settled back into her chair preparing herself for what she was about to tell.

"Fine…I'll tell you…"

A/N Next chapter...it's all about House...well what Cuddy says at least. And maybe we'll find out a little more about Wilson. Thanks for the reviews!


	5. Author's Note

Just so anybody who was reading this knows, I have not given up on this story. I have some very bad writers block and I am very short on extra time due to school, sports, and life in general. So…I plan to update soon. I hope the wait will have been worth it. But thank you for reading and sorry for the wait.


	6. Cancer?

A/N okay i did some reserch for this, but if anything is wrong, please let me know so i can fix it. thanks.

* * *

Cuddy sat silent and still and had been this way for the past seven minutes. I was still waiting to hear what illness had inflicted House, and why it could have made everyone act so angry and cold towards me. The last time I had been at Princeton everyone had shared in throwing sympathetic words and glances at me, while everyone gave House the cold shoulder…now it was the other way around.

"I don't know where to start…but I guess it all began right after you left."

Cuddy's sudden speech shook me from my revere and suddenly all my focus was on the words coming from her mouth.

"You know House was a wreck right after you left…he didn't come in to work for three days…which is no big deal I suppose…we all thought that he was dealing with it in his own way…that he just didn't want to be in a place that reminded him so much of the best friend he had just lost…even though he would never admit to it.

"He wouldn't answer phone calls or pages, and after the third day, I was a little upset and maybe, even a little worried. I decided to go over and check up on him, I was thinking I could knock some sense into him, tell him he was being crazy and that he needed to pick himself up by his bootstraps and get on with life, learn from what he had done, but move on.

"When I got there…I never expected…I had never seen him so…I thought he was just… beer cans all over the place, used syringes, empty pill bottles. I told him to get his act together and get to work. There was no excuse for his behavior.

"When he started to get sick, in the beginning, I thought he was faking and then I thought it was symptoms from overuse of drugs, but I was wrong…so wrong…I just…he…"

Just then her phone rang, interrupting her. She looked down at it with what I might call relief, but it faded from her features quickly as she answered.

"What?" She asked rather unpleasantly for a greeting.

She was silent as she listened to what the person on the other end had to say. I watched her facial expressions for change, the kind of change that might let me know who she was talking to.

"What do you mean he's not there?" She asked angrily. She was silent a little longer and then she said "Call Kutner and tell him that if doesn't have his butt in that clinic in fifteen minutes…he's fired."

Cuddy snapped her phone shut, fuming slightly. In the time she took to regain her composure I took the time to think upon what she had just said.

Kutner was still working there, apparently House had held onto his team, but Kutner was causing problems, the kind that sounded like House would create, well as far as clinic duty went. I wondered if Taub was still there as well and…oh what was her name? House always called her Thirteen, I wondered if she was still there and if House still called her Thirteen. I couldn't help but wonder if they had been left behind to "hold down the fort" while everyone was away.

"Where were we?" Cuddy asked almost impersonally, after affects from the phone call, slow to wear off.

I realized as she talked more, the personal emotion and feeling she had started this story with were no longer there, they were left somewhere in the past before the phone call. Now she was…business I guess you could say, telling me the things she thought I needed to know at a distance, not revealing the feeling I knew was attached to the memory she was divulging to me.

"He was in an…an accident two days after he came back to work. He crashed his bike head on with another car driven by a drunk driver, going over twenty miles over the speed limit. He was brought in with many wounds; the most prevalent were a severely broken arm and he had a pretty bad concussion even with his helmet on. Of course he was covered from head to foot in cuts and bruises, but the two worst injuries he managed to sustain from riding that stupid bike were a broken right femur and a one inch laceration to his liver."

Cuddy maintained a cool bearing throughout the telling of the story acting as if the events that she was relaying to me did not and had never affected her in anyway. But her eyes were telling me a different version of the story, the one I believed, the one I knew probably happened. The one I could see now.

_Cuddy sat at her desk in her quiet office, fuming at the fact that House was late again. And this time he hadn't even bothered to call. She looks to the door from time to time, waiting for him to come limping though with a hangover prevalent on his face. She's getting ready to chew him a new one when he finally decides to grace them with his presence, but he won't and she will never get her chance because she doubts he'll even show up today. _

_Her anger builds more and more with each minute that passes and he doesn't show up. She's ready to call him and demand to know just where the hell he is, but she doesn't even get to pick up the phone to call, because it's ringing right now. _

_She sighs heavily before picking it up "Cuddy." She answers. _

_Immediately she hears the commotion in the back ground, she's puzzled as to whom it could, but she doesn't ask; she waits for the person on the other side to speak. _

"_Dr. Cuddy, this is Jake." Cuddy knows who this is, he's one of her ER doctors who works as an EMT when he has the free time "I thought I should call and let you know that…well…I don't know how to say this…we have Dr. House here…he's not good…" _

"_Jake, what's happened? Where is House?"She asks, starting to worry about what could have possibly happened that would warrant Jake to call her. _

"_We have him here in the ambulance, we're five minutes out, I wanted to give you the heads up so you could get ready for us." _

"_Jake what's happed?" She asks frantically now, she's more than worried, she panicked. _

"_He was…SHIT…I'll tell you when we get there, just be ready." _

_He hangs up and for a moment she sits there frozen, not sure of what just happened or what to do. _

_Suddenly her brain kicks into over drive and she slams the phone down. She hurriedly gets up and rushes out the door. She runs down to the ER and alerts the staff down there. Everyone starts to scamper around to get ready, not sure of what to expect. Cuddy almost hysterically pages House's team. And then she waits, she paces the ER trying to prepare herself. She realizes she shouldn't be this worried, but she can't help it. _

_And before she knows it, the doors that the EMTs use to wheel their patients in is bursts open and in they come. There on the gurney that they are wheeling is House and he looks like hell just swallowed him and spit him back out. _

_The ER doctors rush around her to get to House and all Cuddy can do is stand there and watch. _

"We treated him for everything he presented. Within three weeks he seemed to be fine and we let him go, a week later and he returned to work. He seemed fine…at first. A month later and he was sick."

"What did he have?" I asked listening intently.

"We didn't know at first. It should have been obvious though. We knew it had something to do with the liver, we were afraid that the laceration he had sustained on his liver from the accident was causing something."

"What did he present with?" I had my ideas of what it could have been, but I wasn't sure.

"Abdominal pain and swelling, chronic fatigue, dark urine, jaundice, portal hypertension and this is kicker was his sudden extra high sensitivity to meds."

"That obviously points to liver problems, what did you do to determine what it was?"

"The usual; liver biopsy, liver panel, needle biopsy, and an abdominal ultrasound."

"What did you find?"

"Cirrhosis." She said shortly.

"Was it from the drugs, you said you found him on a drug binge when you found him before he came back, did it push it over the edge, what was it?"

"It wasn't the drugs surprisingly, or at least we don't think so. We think it was the laceration on his liver from the accident, it makes sense and it fits."

"And it makes all of us feel better."

Cuddy was silent for a moment and then said "It got worse instead of better. His cirrhosis turned into Hepatocellular Carinoma"

I felt like all of the air had suddenly been sucked out of my lungs and I had been kicked in the gut but I managed to whisper out "Liver cancer."

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A/N So there it is. I am so sorry it took so long for me to update, hopefully this won't happen again. Anyways, i hope you like it.


	7. The First Meeting

How was I supposed to live with this knowledge? I had known House was sick to a certain extent, but I had never known that he had been that sick, nor had I even tried to find out. I left my knowledge with the phone call I had received, and what poor knowledge it had been.

It now seemed to me that House's- and everyone's for that matter- animosity towards me was very well placed. How would it have felt to be House and know that his once best friend, the best oncologist in the country had not even bothered to make a phone call to him and ask him how he was? Had their friendship really not been worth that much? I suppose it would have seemed so to a dying House.

Then the notions that I could have helped him get better faster and that maybe all this happened because of me, started to fill my head. If I hadn't left he never would have gone on that drug binge, that I was most certain had something to do with his Cirrhosis and maybe he wouldn't have gotten liver cancer and he wouldn't be here looking at me with accusatory eyes full of hate, loathing, and maybe a little hurt.

I couldn't even begin to comprehend and put into words, what must have happened to House and everyone close to him when things got worse I and I didn't show up.

I still had a lot of unanswered questions, like was he still sick- in remission? – How was he emotionally, did he have any other mysterious ailments? But I would have to put them on hold for now. Cuddy had left my office no more than five minutes ago, under the pretense of a very important phone call that just could not wait.

I sat at my desk, still trying my best to digest the information that had been imparted to me. I looked at my watch and realized I had a little less than ten minutes to get back to the conference hall. But for some reason, I just couldn't find it in myself to get up, walk out of this office, and back to the conference hall were House and everyone else was with this information now festering in my head.

I was a coward and I knew it, and I was almost afraid to face House and his old team. They would rip me to shreds, tear me to pieces, and feed me to the wolves; laughing joyfully all the way. I knew they would all eventually find me, get me alone, and let me have an earful or two. Which that thought was the very thought that got up to get up and walk out of my office. Sitting here, in one stationary position that had my name written on it in neon lights, begging them to come here, was going to make it too easy for them to find me. I figured in the conference hall, surrounded by hundreds of well respected doctors, it would make it harder for them to do anything with me or to me.

When I stepped out into the hallway I found that Cuddy was not there or anywhere near where I stood. Apparently her phone call had taken her away to somewhere else. That fact made my trip back down to the conference center a whole lot easier.

This time the halls were a little less empty than they had been previous times. Doctors that were not required to attend the conference because they did not hold important enough job titles flitted through the halls as the nurses did.

When I reached the conference center I found that I was a bit earlier than I had intended on being and now was faced with the fact that some socialization on my part might be required. As long as I stayed clear of anyone from Princeton, there should be no big problem with this, other than the fact that I hated conference socializing.

"James" A soft voice came from behind me.

I turned and saw a leggy blonde standing behind me. "Catherine." I said, a small smile coming to my lips even though I tried to stop it.

"So how did your good old chief get you here this time?" She asked as she walked closer to me "Was he going to fire you? Threaten more clinic duty? Make you be nice to the nurses?" Huh… what was it James?"

"Actually," I said smiling a little more as she near breaching my personal space "I'm here under the pretence of seeing you."

"Oh? And how did the great doctor Wilson know I was going to be here?" She asked now resting her hands lightly on my chest.

"You're always here." I said matter-of-factly.

"Very true, I always am." She said smiling as she brought her hand closer to mine. "Do you want to get out of here, say…go to your office or something?"

I was very tempted by the offer…so tempted in fact that I said yes. She smiled at me seductively, took me by the hand, and walked me in the direction I had just come from.

When Catherine was around, I wasn't myself, I did things I normally wouldn't and acted in a manner that was not like me. It was just something about her, I didn't love her, or at least I don't think I did, but she knew me on a level that no one else did, and I let her see a side of me I normally kept hidden.

Once we were in my office, I shut and locked the door; ditching the conference, pissing off my chief of medicine, and forgetting all about House, all at once.

When Catherine and I were done with what we "had" to do, we walked back to the conference center almost an hour later, talking animatedly to each other as we went.

It was a weird relationship that Catherine and I had, but it brought me comfort, and I felt that Catherine was there for me. She knew me to be a kind man at times and not the jack ass everyone thought me to be. We saw each other every now and then in situations like these, but we kept in touch through phone calls and e-mails. I don't know what it was or what we shared, but it was what it was.

When we got back there were people standing in the hall. Clearly we had missed a portion of the conference, though it didn't bother me at all.

"Alright then James…I'll see you later?" Catherine asked, stepping closer to me.

"You will…call me alright?" I asked, before kissing her briefly.

She smiled and said "You know I will." And then she walked away from and through the doors that led to the large conference room.

"Wife number five?" I hear a cold and mocking voice ask behind me.

My body tensed as I recognized the voice and knew instantly who was standing behind me.

"Some things never change, huh Jimmy?" House asked as he limped past me and to the doors. "They just never change." And then he opened the door and walked into the large conference room.

And that was how –after ten years of not seeing or hearing from each other- my first meeting with Dr. Gregory House went.

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A/N Okay so, i hope you all liked it. Hopefully i'll be updating soon. And thank you for all the reviews.


	8. A Normal Night

I sat silently in my seat; half listening to my chief of medicine chew me out for missing part of the conference. I was more than happy that after this short little thirty minute briefing, all this would be over…for today. I could go to my favorite bar, "drown my sorrows", and go home to an empty apartment for the night.

"James, are you listening to me?"

I looked to the chief and said "Of course I am." As if the very thought of my ignoring the man made me indignant.

"Good, so then you heard me say that if you take one more step out of line, I'm suspending you…you're lucky I keep employing you…because you know, no one else will take you…now."

I nodded my head, knowing there was complete truth behind the words that he said. I was lucky to be working for him, because I was lucky to have a job. And in that sense, I kind of felt like House…well the House I had known before I up and left.

"Do you understand James?" The voice broke through my thoughts.

I nodded my head "Yes."

"Good, you can go now."

I nodded my head in a silent thanks and then got up from my seat, and left.

I walked out of the conference room, looking for House and everybody associated with him, but I couldn't find them as I took my leave. They must have left a couple minutes ago, while I was still getting slapped on the wrist. I sighed, happy that there would be no more confrontations for today. I don't think I could very well have handled more bad news that had steamed from my leave and horrible treatment of House. But in my defense, he hadn't treated me very well either.

I made my way, quietly to my empty office. The halls were once again crowded with doctors and nurses and patients and the loved ones of those patients. I shook my head, weary of the people I saw along the way. I was weary because all the people, they were the loved ones of mostly terminal patients, ones that didn't even stand a chance against the diseases they were trying to fight.

Once I had reached my office, I unlocked the door, and stepped into the semi-darkness of the place that was more my home and sanctuary than my own apartment.

I shrugged off my lab coat and threw it on a nearby chair. I then began to loosen my tie as I walked to my desk, full of unfinished paperwork.

I sighed as I threw my tie on my desk, slightly covering the paper work that glared up at me. I sat down in my chair, the day finally catching up to me. I let my head rest in my hands, and then I began to tiredly rub my eyes. Going to the bar down the street never sounded so good to me.

So I got up from where I sat, grabbed my brief case, walked around my desk, and grabbed my coat off of the coat rack by the door. I slipped it on as I took one last sweeping look at my office. I found it hard to believe that this office pretty much represented who I was, and it took a rude visit from my boss to do it.

I shook my head and opened my office door before stepping out. I locked the door and then turned and proceeded to leave the hospital. I ignored the prying eyes that were on me as I made my way out of the hospital.

I stepped out into the somewhat cool night air and stopped for a second. The air smelled sweet and the somewhat warm but cool air wrapped around my pleasantly. I remember that this night was similar to the first night I was here.

I began my journey to my car once more, walking quickly through the parking lot to my parking space. I finally reached one of my most prized possessions, my 1955 T-Bird. It had coasted me a very, very pretty penny, but it was my dream car, and I didn't care.

I unlocked the door and got in, putting my brief case on the seat next to me. I sighed and took a moment for myself, trying to let all of the stress from that day go, all the memories and knowledge were to be left in this spot until I returned in the morning to deal or not deal with them.

I started up the engine with a pleasing roar, put it into drive, and pulled away from the spot, leaving all I had intended to, in that spot. I drove off of the hospital property, almost care free…care free enough to stop by the local bar and maybe pick someone up.

Within five minutes I was pulling up to the bar, ready to make myself forget all the more. I got out of my car, locked it, and walked around my car to enter the bar.

The bar tender greeted me by name and with a friendly nod of acknowledgement. I sat down at the counter and waited to be tended to.

"Hey Wilson." Came the gruff voice of the tender.

"Mark, how are you tonight?" I asked conversationally.

"I'm fine, busy night tonight, that conference has brought in a lot more business…that that I'm complaining or anything." Mark said as he reached under the counter to pull out the good stuff for me.

"I wouldn't dare say you were." I said on a slight laugh as Mark put the drink in front of me.

"On your tab?" He asked.

I nodded and then he left to tend to someone else.

So left alone I took a sip of my drink, enjoying the warm feel as it slid down my throat. But I wasn't alone for long.

"James!" I heard the excited voice come from behind me, feeling my night getting more and more interesting.

"Catherine, what are you doing here? Following me again?" I asked turning to greet the woman.

I saw her smile seductively at me before she sat down next to me. "Now now James, I wouldn't call it following."

"How many times have I told you that you don't need to stalk me to win over my affections?" I continued the playful banter.

"Apparently not enough." She said before he leaned in for a quick kiss. "I'm going to go freshen up real quick…then ah…do you want to get out of here?"

I nodded my head, enticed by her figure that she was putting on display just for me. "Good." She whispered, before she sauntered off towards the bathrooms.

I shook my head, laughing slightly, finishing up my drink, getting ready for the "fun" filled night that awaited me.

That was up until I heard the mocking voice behind me.

"Who's she Jimmy?" then there was a little laugh "She's perfect for you…you always knew how to pick them, didn't you?"

There was no mistaking that sarcastic female voice, not now, not ever.

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A/N Okay, so i'm not so sure on how much i like this chapter and i might just re-write it...anyways, more on what happened to House coming up in the next chapters. Thanks for the reviews!


	9. How You're Supposed to Feel

I turned slowly in my seat to see Cameron standing behind me, hands on her hips and a smirk that gave me chills on her face.

I'll be the first to admit that Cameron was a beautiful woman, but the slinky little black dress and matching heals that she wore that night, would be enough to tempt any good man.

"Cameron…what are you doing here?" I asked, my voice cracking a little as I took in the sight of her.

"Why do you need to know? Can't I just come out to a local bar; have a drink and good night?" She asked slowly, taking a step forward.

"No…I mean yes of course you can, but I mean why are you here, by me?" I asked trying to figure out what tactic Cameron was going to use to make me feel like shit.

"Just want to talk to an old friend." She said taking a seat next to me, a sly smile playing her lips perfectly.

I swallowed convulsively, turning slightly just a little more to face her where she now sat.

"To an old friend?" I questioned, not sure she meant what she said.

She tilted her head slightly and said "Well, and old colleague who I once considered to be somewhat of a friend." Her smile widened a bit.

Mark came up to where we sat, giving me a look before saying "What can I get you?"

"Martini, dry with olives." She smiled at Mark before saying "It'll go on James' tab."

Mark nodded, giving me an odd look before turning and filling her order.

"How did you know I have a tab here?" I asked almost indignant, and maybe a little embarrassed.

"Wilson…it doesn't take much to know…and working for House as long as I did, I learned a few observation skills."

The name that was subtly dropped was not lost on me and I trying to give her a warning look that said I did not want to discuss House.

"Don't look at me like that Jimmy…you know that we're going to talk about this, and that I'm not going away until we do." The look she gave me as she said this, made me believe every word.

"James?" The voice made my stomach sink. I turned to see Catherine standing behind me with a somewhat hurt look on her face.

"Catherine…sweetie, ummm I suppose I need to talk to you." I said looking to Cameron who had one eyebrow raised but otherwise remained silent.

I took Catherine by the hand and led her to a more quite place in the bar.

"James, what's going on? Who is she?" Catherine asked in a rush.

"Catherine…calm down. She's just an old colleague in town for the conference…she worked for House." I said defeated.

"Oh…I see." She said, a look of sympathetic knowing came over her face.

"Yeah…so…how about I meet you back at my place?" I asked.

Catherine nodded her head before getting up on her tippy toes to kiss my cheek lightly.

"I'll see you there." Catherine whispered in my ear before she turned and walked out of the bar.

I sighed, rubbing my eyes gently before looking to where Cameron sat waiting for me. I walked slowly back to where she was and sat back down.

"So Wilson…who is she?" Cameron asked prolonging her harsh words that I knew were coming.

"A good friend." I said shortly.

Cameron snorted and said with a laugh "Yeah…she looks like a good friend…a really good friend."

I sighed, slightly out of annoyance, and slightly out of resignation before I said "So what did you want to talk to me about…clearly it's more important than my love life, if you came all the way over here to discuss it…stop wasting both yours and my time."

Cameron looked at me, a bit taken aback before she recovered and retorted "Don't get snappy with me Jimmy."

I looked at my hands before taking a sip of my almost forgotten drink.

"Why do you want to talk to me?" I asked setting down my drink as I did so.

"For the same reason Cuddy wanted to talk to you." Cameron stated dryly.

I looked at her with what I would assume was shock on my face. "You know Cuddy came to see me?"

"Jimmy…Cuddy told me she came to see you."

"Oh…well, I can't imagine you have anything to say to me…I mean Cuddy told me all there was to know."

Cameron sorted for the second time that night, but it wasn't an amused snort…it was…and indignant one.

"You know nothing." She said spitefully.

"I know something." I said defensively.

"No…you know what he had…and maybe how he got it…but you don't know anything!" Cameron said, slamming her fist down on the counter.

I saw Mark turn to us and I waved him off…signaling that everything was fine.

"Okay…so I know nothing…I'm sorry."

Cameron nodded her head and took another sip of her drink.

"You should know." Cameron said softly.

I looked at her with what I know was shock. Cameron turned to look at me and said quickly "Not because you deserve to know…or because you were once his friend and that entitles you to something…but because you should know what you did to him…so you can feel the way you're supposed to."

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A/N Okay i know its been a while and i'm sorry this is a shorter chapter, but i'll update soon. I hope you like it!


	10. I Don't Understand

A/N Okay guys, so here's the deal. I seriously considered taking this story down and deleting it. I would sit and stare at it on my computer and wonder where i was going with this one, and i couldn't figure it out. So, I have zero inspiration to continue wrting. But, it has been recently, that I decided I wouldn't delete it and that I would continue to write it. I'm curently getting over the flu, so that gave me some time to figure out how i was going to start this again...and here's what i came up with. I'm so sorry that it has been so long since I last updated. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and let me know what you thought of it. Thanks guys!

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Cameron and I sat in silence for a few moments, before she turned and looked at me with such sadness it her eyes. It quickly turned to regret and then settled on anger before she began her story.

"I suppose Cuddy's already told you that when you left House was a mess. And I suppose you already know about House's drug binge."

I nodded my head to tell her that I did and that she didn't need to go over it again with me.

"When you left, Chase and I started to pitch in and help the team whenever we had a spare moment…as a favor to Foreman. House was unreliable then…drowning in his own grief. When he came back to work he was as bad as ever. Rude, surly, couldn't keep a thought to himself… popping pills every chance he got…no one was there who could make his stop.

"When he got into his accident a couple days later…I hated to admit it at the time because I still hated him for what he had done to you…but I was terrified. I thought he might die right there in front of my eyes…the indestructible House was never so destructible in that moment. When he was brought in I thought of the time he got shot…it doesn't matter though," She said shaking her head slightly to get rid of the tangency her mind wanted to run off on "When he was recovered…and again I wouldn't have liked to admit it at the time, but I was happy to have him back. He was happy, and strangely decent to people…it was like the accident changed him in the most drastic way."

She took a large gulp of her drink, finishing it off, before waving to Mark for a refill.

"But you know…nothing lasts forever." She continued, looking back at me. "A month…that's all that there was…a month of a happy satisfied with life, House. When he got sick…it felt like the world had shifted or something. I will never forgive myself for the way I treated him at first. I thought it was his fault….that he could have stopped his liver from going…you know, because he was always on a drug and drinking binge. It never even occurred to me that it could have been from the accident."

She stopped then and looked at me, a weird sort of pain in her eyes. It was clear that she shouldered some of the blame for what happened to House, either that or she felt unbearably guilty for something. And that's when I realized that she was looking for the same type of pain in my eyes…pain I had yet to feel.

"One day we had been working on a particularly tough case, one that we had been puzzling over for the most of two weeks. House had been…well he wasn't all there, I suppose you could say. He had been acting very odd, like he knew something was coming and he was trying to prep himself for it. He couldn't have cared less for the case, which was extremely odd in itself. We didn't know what to make of it, but it should have been so obvious, and it was…we just didn't see it. But that one day…it all came together."

She stopped and looked at me…I don't think I've ever seen such grief in Cameron's eyes. She took a deep swig of her refilled drink before continuing on.

"Dr. Johnson was by House's side most of the time…he never left. We didn't really think much of it at the time; we all just thought he had finally replaced you. That was until House and Dr. Johnson started disappearing in the oncology lab often. And soon, Cuddy started to join them. We puzzled over what could be going on, but we always came up inconclusive. We knew something was up though, and we knew it had everything to do with House.

"One day we were working a case that was particularly difficult…we went looking for him. When he wasn't in the oncology wing we went to Cuddy's office. He wasn't there, and neither was Cuddy. We saw his medical file lying on her desk…we couldn't help ourselves."

Cameron looked at me with angry eyes "Cirrhosis…but we already suspected that. What we didn't suspect were the reasons. We had judged him to quickly…not that he ever gave us a reason not too…but still."

Cameron shrugged and looked around her for a moment, as if collecting her thoughts. She still drank from her drink heavily; Mark had been by twice two refill her glass.

"Liver cancer, but you already knew that. Taub, Kutner, and Thirteen all agreed to not bring it up, they agreed to let us deal with it at first. They would help out any way they could if they were needed. Chase, Foreman, and I all sought out Johnson to confront him about what we had found. We found him in his office discussing something importantly with Cuddy. We thought we could kill two birds with one stone and just get it over with.

"Cuddy confirmed everything we found in his case file. She assured us that House was not faking anything and that he was indeed, very ill."

She looked away from me for a brief second before looking back. "I don't think you understand just how sick he really was Jimmy."

"Cameron, I think I do, I work with cancer patients of every kind every day." I all but scoffed at her. How could she think that I didn't understand? I had been working practically _with_ cancer for the past several years of my life.

"He quit his job Jimmy." She said flatly, taking a drink and looking away from me.

I could physically feel the shock register on my face as I could as it spread through my body.

Cameron looked back to me a laughed "Believe it Jimmy; Dr. Gregory House quit his job because he had liver cancer."

The news was unfathomable to me. House loved his job, or at least, he loved the puzzles his job presented him with. I couldn't imagine House without his job. Sometimes, I used to think that he lived _for_ his job. Which then posed the question in my mind, how sick had House actually been? How aggressive had his cancer been that he _quit_ his job?

"Foreman took over the department a couple days after we found out. He never used House's office though. A maintenance crew came in once night and covered everything in sheets. It was like we were leaving it just as House had left it…for when he came back, because we all _wanted_…no we _needed_ to believe that House was going to get better.

"The department suffered for the first month while it was under Foreman's control…but it wasn't Foreman's fault. We were all more focused on House than our actual jobs. Actually…come to think of it…the whole entire hospital was more focused on House than doing their actual jobs. It's quite surprising I guess. House used to be so hated…and then he got sick and started dying and all of the sudden…"

Cameron drifted off, looking at her hands. I noticed a shiny gold, wedding band on her left ring finger. She and Chase must have gotten married sometime in the past ten years.

"I wish I could make you understand what he was like when he got sick. But I don't think I can…I just…you just _won't_ understand."

Suddenly Cameron was on her feet and she was putting on her jacket. She threw down a ten, maybe to help offset the cost of her drinks.

She grabbed her purse and turned to me and said "I'm sorry for wasting your time James…have a good night."

And then she was gone, out the bar door and into the night... and I didn't understand.


	11. An Understanding?

A/N Hey guys. I made a few changes to this chapter. Made it longer and in my opinion, better. And thanks for hanging in there with me. I really appreciate it.

I obviously do not own House, or any characters from the show.

Thanks for reading guys!

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I woke early the next morning in an empty apartment that made my miserable life, seem just that much more, miserable. My head pounded unbearably and I stumbled through my place, searching for the one thing that I knew would get rid of my killer hang over, more alcohol.

It was about noon which meant that I would have to be at the hospital in about an hour. There was plenty of time to sit and drown my feelings and thoughts. And the prospect of having to see Cuddy, or Cameron, or worse yet House was all the motivation I needed to drown my problems quickly.

I got out two shot glasses and filled them to the brim with straight vodka. I wasn't messing around today; I wanted to feel numb and quick.

I downed a shot before walking out of the kitchen and back into my messy bedroom. I put on a pair of dark slacks, a dark blue button down shirt, and a black tie. I then walked back into the kitchen and finished off my other shot.

I was ready and raring for the day ahead of me. I felt the alcohol induced confidence course through me, letting me know that I could deal with my sudden, difficult situation.

I stumbled out through my front door, barely remembering to grab my wallet, keys, and lab coat.

Knowing I was too drunk to drive, but not caring, I got behind the wheel of my car and drove to work. I knew I was lucky to make to the hospital alive and without having killed anyone else, but I hardly cared.

When I arrived at work, I found the parking lot full, but my designated parking spot near the door was empty. There were perks to being the best…and sometimes I _was_ the best.

_The best_…the thought repeated itself in my brain for a reason I couldn't fathom, mostly likely the alcohol, but who really knew.

I remembered House once referring to himself as the best. At the time I had scoffed at his egotistical self-centeredness, but couldn't deny that he was, indeed, one of kind. I remembered thinking that if could just beat his addiction; think clearly, be his own person without the vicodin he could be so much greater.

My eyes wondered to the rearview mirror and I had to give myself a quizzical look. It was almost as if the House I knew ten years ago was staring back at me now…and I hated it…so I stopped looking at myself.

That was one of the many reasons why I hated mirrors, one of the reasons why I had only one mirror in my apartment, because I couldn't stand to have to look at myself. If I didn't stop to have a good hard look at myself, I couldn't tell anything about me had changed, helping believe that I was not in trouble, that I hadn't become anything like the one person that had destroyed me and everything I had ten years ago. That's why the one mirror in my bathroom was all I needed, it was only there to make sure I didn't have toothpaste on my face. I only looked at it once and only in passing. Anything else would have been unbearable.

I suppose that also why I drank. I was so deeply unhappy, so steeped in my own shit, that getting drunk let me believe that I wasn't a fuck up, that I wasn't a hypocrite, that I had clung to my values and character as I had thought I always would. After all, hadn't I left House so that I could remain unchanged, so that I could be myself without worry?

I couldn't quite remember when I had started to drink, or when I had started to transform. It hadn't been right away. I remember being happy at one time. When I first arrived in California I remembered each beautiful, sunny day filled with calm air was always like the vision of freedom to me. I could do what I wanted without the hindrance of a "friend" who only took from me. I could help cure cancer and be happy while doing it and maybe even work on my tan.

And then I had gotten that damn phone call.

"_House is sick._

I don't think I ever hated anyone more than I did in that moment of my life. I had thought I had escaped that facet of my life, the one that involved caring about House.

And I knew now, that if I had just done what my first instinct to do was, to do a simple follow up, I could have saved myself a world of hurt and guilt. I wouldn't have had to always wonder, what became of House?

I think it was shortly after that, that I began to drink, not heavily, but enough. And the more time that passed, the more unhappy I became with my life for reasons I could not or maybe was not willing to figure out. I drank more to cover up that fact.

I never considered myself even remotely like House, until now, sitting in my fucking sports car.

I had distorted my past and present so badly that I had no idea how I got here, who I was, or where the hell I was going. I was lost…and the alcohol in my system was not helping my cognitive abilities to comprehend this revelation.

Sighing so deeply that I felt I dispelled some of my internal negative energy, I got out of my car, and stumbled my way to the front doors of the hospital.

I righted myself before walking in, but I don't know how much help it was to my surely already pitiful appearance.

Walking through the lobby as quickly as I could so I couldn't be stopped by anyone, I made it to the elevators in record time.

The freedom of my office seemed so near; I could hardly wait to get there so I could check on my patients and then maybe nap off this haze before the conference started.

I was almost drunkenly giddy when the elevator doors opened, but my giddiness was short lived. When the doors opened they reveal that Chase and Foreman were standing side by side conversing with each other.

I could feel a slight sweat breakout over the sight of them, but the only reaction I received was for them to look at me once, step to the side of the elevator to make room for me, and then continue their previous conversation.

I hesitantly got onto what very suddenly seemed like a metal interrogation box, but Chase and Foreman continued on with their conversation with each other as if I was just some other doctor that they had never met.

Indeed upon closer listening, they appeared to be discussing nothing of serious consequence, just baseball statistics and the chances of the Cubs beating the Dodgers in the playoffs.

As the ride neared an end, I began to relax; they were not going to yell at me, tell me how badly I had fucked up.

But as the doors opened and they started to leave, Foreman stopped and looked at me before saying, "You reek of vodka Wilson."

Chase finished by saying, "You should think about cleaning yourself up before the conference…just a thought."

And then they turned and they were gone and I was left stunned at their sudden blunt comments.

And so as the elevator dumped me off on my floor, instead of going to my office to nap off this haze or checking on my patients, I decided to go to the locker room and shower off, maybe sober up a bit.

Incredibly once I was cleaned up and had a new outfit on (a spare from my locker), I felt better. So much better in fact, that the prospect of interacting with patients wasn't a revolting idea. So that's what I did, I went and checked up on my patients.

After my particularly pleasant rounds were done, I found that I was hungry, starving actually; considering that I had skipped eating breakfast in favor of doing shots of vodka.

So I made my way down to the cafeteria, which was packed with visiting doctors in for the conference and waiting for it to begin.

Not heeding the fact that there appeared to be no seats, I went ahead and bought my meal.

Walking out of the checkout line and having a chance to survey the cafeteria I saw, much to my dismay, that Foreman and Chase were eating lunch near the checkout line, and that they were looking right at me.

Foreman raised his hand to gesture me over and against my better judgment I went. I must truly have been a masochist.

"Have a seat Dr. Wilson." Chase said in, what I perceived to be, a neutral tone, but I couldn't be sure.

Foreman shoved a chair out in front of me and gestured to it again. "Yes please, have a seat."

And with no other option but to take the seat, I sat, with dread filling a sudden pit in my stomach, despite the fact that both Chase and Foreman looked nothing but pleased to see me.

Once I had settled Chase began to talk, "I'm glad to see you sobered up. It's much easier and more pleasant to deal with people when you don't smell strongly of alcohol."

Foreman nodded his head in agreement. "How have you been Wilson? We heard that Cuddy and Cameron paid you a visit yesterday."

I felt my stomach drop. I didn't know how much more berating I could take. I understood that I had fucked up beyond forgiveness; it had been made abundantly clear to me. If I had known this was the type of conversation that awaited me, I wouldn't have bothered sobering up; in fact I probably would have stopped by my office for another round before lunch.

Clearly reading my apprehension, Foreman chuckled lightly. "Don't worry. We're not here to chew your ass out or make you feel like a sorry bastard."

I sighed despite myself.

"Yeah, we just want to talk. Maybe reach an understanding." Chase added in a neutral tone.

I nodded my head. I could do that. I could work towards an understanding, because truth be told, I was still so confused.

"We understand that Cuddy told you how House came to be sick and that Cameron told you about the issues we faced while he was ill." Chase said, smirking slightly at the end.

"Just wondering, how bad did Cameron make you feel?" Foreman asked lightly.

I was about to raise an indignant objection to the question when Foreman laughed. "I wouldn't take everything she said to you personally. We've all been a little stressed as of late. Although, that's not to say some blame shouldn't be placed on your shoulders, but House shoulders an equal amount of blame too."

I was shocked. Blame House?

They continued as if they hadn't just admitted to House's guilt.

"I'm sure it's been alluded to you that House is a changed man. That he's different because of the cancer and all that good stuff, but its more." Chase began.

"You're leaving changed him just as much as the cancer did. And it changed him in a good way, although Cuddy and Cameron would be hard pressed to admit it." Foreman continued.

Now I was getting mad. First I'm made to feel like the world's largest jackass and now I'm supposed to feel better because Chase and Foreman said I should?

"Wait! Why are you telling me this? What purpose do you have to serve here? What are you trying to gain?" I asked indignantly.

"Why have nothing to gain by telling you this per say." Chase said in what, I suppose, was meant to be a calming voice. "In fact Foreman and I, after having many conversations with Cuddy and Cameron, have decided for the sake of a friendship that once existed, to try and help you instead of tearing you down." To what friendship Chase was talking about, he left for me to decide.

"Why? Why help me?" I asked growing more confused.

"Because, it has been our shared experience that in order to help House, we need to help you as well." Foreman explained as if it was the most logical thing in the world.

"Help House? How would helping me help House? What is it you want from me? An apology? Fine. I'm sorry."

"No. It's not an apology we're after, nor is it what House needs." Chase explained.

"Then what?" I almost barked.

Foreman signed heavily then said, "I think an understanding is in order. House is…well that's something he and you need to discuss, and you are going to kill yourself if you don't get off the path you're on. So, when House finally seeks you out, and he will, all we ask is that you sit and hear him out. Open your ears to possibility and accept the present truth for what it is…the truth."

"And we ask that you be sober for the conversation. We understand that that might be a tall order to fill, but it will be necessary." Chase said as he stood from his seat.

"But I don't understand. How will this help me? And how do you know that House is going to seek me out. That doesn't sound like something he'd do." I had my doubts and feared that I was being set up for something awful.

"Hopefully it will give you the information you need to get your head out of your ass and move on with your life." Chase answered has he pulled his lab coat off of the back of his chair and put it on himself.

"And as for how we know that House is going to find you and demand a conversation…well" Foreman also stood and put his lab coat on. "His therapist requested that he do so, and House agreed."

They both wished me a good day and then departed from the cafeteria.

And then, their words permeated my brain, _House was seeing a therapist and listening to them? _What the hell?


End file.
